The St Valentine Blues
by HawaiianCaffeine
Summary: Everyone needs help to stave off the Valentine blues. When it's Draco and Hermione, however.. well, 'help' is relative. A verbal spar btwn.. opposing allies. Of course, keeping each other on their toes was a mutual gift. MalfoyXGranger. A playful oneshot


**The St. Valentine Blues**

His face brightened when he saw her. With a bounce in his step, he waltzed over to her table, flipped the chair around smoothly, and "elegantly" plopped into the chair, totally ignoring the General Rules and Regulations of sitting anywhere. Hermione wasn't sure how it was possible for one to "elegantly" _plop_ into a chair, but he did so quite cleanly, and she scowled at his skill. _Have to be cool while just sitting, didn't he?_ Show off. Leaning forward on two of its legs toward the table, he smirked rather arrogantly at her. She pressed her lips together in an unhappy frown, trying to focus on the book held in her hand. What was the point in sneaking away from the lovesick fools running around the school when obnoxiously over-confident _pricks_ hunted you down anyway?

"Alone again on Valentine's Day, Granger?" He piped joyfully, "It's an unfortunate occurrence I couldn't help but notice, but _there you are_. I always do my _best_ to be aware of the needs of other students and helpfully point out their _lack_."

Hermione narrowed her eyes onto her book, forcing her gaze to analyze and comprehend every word in the paragraph. In her peripheral vision, he set an elbow onto the table and leaned his chin into his hand listlessly, his body still precariously leaning forward in his chair.

"From what I can see, however, your isolation and loneliness is probably in exact proportion to how frizzy your hair looks on a day-to-day basis. Oh! But don't worry, at least _that's_ fixable with a decent hair transplant. Your _blood_, however, is another story…"

Hermione snapped up to glare into his grey eyes, "What do you _want_, Malfoy?"

He held out his hands, palms up, in question, "What, can't old friends have a chat?"

Hermione choked, "We are not friends, Malfoy. _Peers_ is stretching it, actually, considering your lack of maturity. And just because we have to work on that project in Potions together doesn't mean we even have to _speak_ to one another."

"Considering _you_, _me_, _Longbottom_, and _Loney_ Lovegood are the only ones here for an eighth year at Hogwarts, I'd say that's a _very_ good reason to converse with one another." He leaned the chair back, looking up dramatically, "Fond memories and all."

She snorted derisively, "Yes, just _think_ of all the times we've shared. How about that first year when you were absolutely horrid and called me a Mudblood the first time I met you. Oh! I know—in the second year, when your father nearly caused the death of every Muggle-born in the castle and gave poor Ginny nightmares even till this day. How about the next year, when—"

Malfoy waved his hand impatiently, "Yes, yes, when you put it like _that_. But that's old news now, of course. The Malfoy's have turned over a new _leaf_, haven't you heard? _Right_, upstanding citizens we are—wholeheartedly backing the Boy-Who-Has-Cheated-Death-Twice-To-Be-A-Pain-In-My-Arse—"

Hermione slapped her book down onto the table and glared at him. How like him to selfishly intrude upon her personal time and uncaringly insult everything she cared about on _Valentine's_ _Day_, without even the decency to be remorseful in the slightest about it. Hermione gave him a significantly scathing look. _Malfoy_, thy name is _chaos_.

"Is there a point to this, or should I just bypass your BS and go to my room?" she glared, anger sparking in the air.

"Ah, resorting to swearing now, ally? Well, you _could _leave, but seeing as how we both share the same common room, it wouldn't be wise." He pointed out the door, "I can just as easily piss you off in there as out here." He leaned forward again, chin in hand, smirking, "And I wouldn't be nearly as nice as I am now."

"_Nice?_" Hermione gasped angrily.

He folded his arms on the back of the chair that faced her, "Granger, I don't know whether I'm flattered or offended. I'm practically acting saint-like right now." His eye brows rose thoughtfully, "I hope I haven't lost my touch. It would be a shame for all that talent to infuriate go to waste. It's practically my gift from _God_."

Hermione eyed him warily and then she smiled knowingly. Looking away, she put on a snobby air of confidence, "I think I know your problem, Malfoy."

"How can _perfection_ have a problem?" he quipped smugly.

Hermione snorted and looked away again. Looking out of the corner of her eyes, a smirk pulling at one side of her mouth, she replied "You're compensating for your…" Here she turned toward him fully, looking him up, then down meaningfully, "lack." Her eyebrow rose in condescension.

Malfoy turned beat red in shock and indignation.

Thoroughly enjoying her payback, Hermione leaned back and relaxed in her chair, continuing, "Yes, I understand perfectly. You, of course, are just as alone and Valentine-less as I _appear_ by you to be."

She leaned over the table separating them and delicately lifted his chin to shut his open-hanging mouth. Loftily she added, "Cheer up, Malfoy. Not everyone can be perfect—I'm sure your _many_ girlfriends love you _just_ the same. I understand if it upsets you, _but_, nevertheless, _there you are_." She said the last words with a vicious tone and a vicious smile to accompany it. Hermione loved throwing words back at others—and Malfoy was practically _asking_ to be cut by her sharp tongue.

Hermione suddenly brightened, cocked her head to the side in a false sense of consideration, and pitched her voice to sound as _he_ did when he was acting particularly smug, obnoxious, and dramatic, "Are you suffering from the Valentine blues, love?"

He stood up suddenly and sputtered, "What do you—I mean—" Malfoy glared as he realized he was caught into a trap. _Touché. _His eyes narrowed.

_Game on._

Malfoy smiled, and leaned back on the balls of his feet. With his back was against the bookcase and hands behind his head, he said, "You couldn't possibly know what you're talking about, Granger. You're more innocent than a new born baby bird."

"I would be careful what you _assume_, Malfoy. My best friends were _boys_, and one of those _boys_ had a house _full of brothers_. Innocence may be relative." She grinned at him, like the canary that ate the cat.

His eyes laid on her steadily for a few seconds before flipping his hair out of his eyes. Malfoy's lips pulled in a half-smirk as he said, "Well, then it's a shame that your apparently _numerous_ skills are of no use since you _are_ actually here, alone, on Valentine's Day, with some pathetic book to keep you company."

Hermione smiled at his ignorance. Putting on another fake air of bravado, she leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, and held her hand over her mouth, pretending to yawn. "I suppose that might be true if I hadn't already given my Valentine present to someone special. I'm expecting them to find it soon and be _very_ grateful." Hermione lowered her hand from her mouth and rose her eyebrow in suggestion at what exactly this individual might _do_ show his thankfulness.

Malfoy's jaw dropped for the second time this day. Hermione, recognizing another triumph, suppressed a grin, picked up her book, and airily turned to the next page. It took a lot of her effort not to break out into a full-blown grin. It was his turn to press his lips together into a frown. His grey eyes glared at the book, as if it personally offended him. Actually, it probably did.

"Considering the situation, it might be wise to take your leave _now_, Malfoy. He will probably be arriving soon and… _privacy_ would be appreciated." Hermione could hardly keep herself still with laughter and the pride she felt at thinking up this quip so quickly. The funny thing was that she wasn't lying—for the most part—and he knew it. _Take that,_ _Malfoy_. His heated glare made her chest puff up in joyful pride. Valentine's really _was_ a beautiful day.

When he caught the twinges of a smirk teasing her mouth, he paused in thought for a moment. Eyeing her like a hawk eyeing prey, he began to smirk again. Sauntering around the table to her side, he plucked her book from her grasp.

"Hey!"

Seemingly uncaring, he slipped back to gracefully sit onto the table, right next to where she sat in her chair. Hermione eyed him suspiciously, _As she well should,_ he thought. Her smug expression slid from her face to be replaced by another glare as he pushed his hair out of his face. On the one hand, at least he didn't slick his hair back anymore so he looked much less severe than he used to. On the other hand, Hermione didn't find his new found familiarity very encouraging either. If anything, he felt _more_ dangerous now. Hermione frowned inwardly at the thought.

"Give me back my book, Malfoy."

He seemed to find this amusing and he held the book out exaggeratingly to 'look' at it. "What have we here? –Oh, wrote by that Muggle woman a century ago, isn't it? _Pride_ and _Prejudice_, eh? Very…" He turned his mocking gaze toward her, "_sentimental_ of you, Granger." He shifted away again, still sitting on the table, and finished sarcastically crisp, "Romantic, isn't it?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for him to either get to his point or get out. And she told him so.

He smirked and replied, "Oh, but I have a very good point." Scooting his body toward her, he lifted his legs to slide right in front of her, propping those very same legs on either side of the legs of her chair. There was a disparity between their heights since she sat in her chair and Hermione's cheeks inflamed when he leaned over to look her in the eyes. Very suddenly, Hermione found herself uncomfortably trapped intimately by Draco Malfoy… without actually being in his _grasp_. Hermione flushed a darker red at the realization. She knew she should be mature about this—I mean, she's lived through a _war_ and she couldn't handle attention from _Malfoy, idiot of the century_? Unfortunately, Hermione wasn't especially gifted or equipped to deal with these types of situations, no matter what she had insinuated earlier. Never before had Hermione _wished_ she'd been gifted with the ability to handle personal situations, but _wishing_ didn't help her in the least.

_He_ at least seemed to know exactly what he was doing, how she had lied about her extensive knowledge in these areas, and was thoroughly enjoying taking advantage of the situation.

"Really, Granger. Who would you give a Valentine gift to that would make it _worth your while_? Truly, I'm curious." Hermione desperately tried not to gulp or show any more weakness. Malfoy would tease and mock her endlessly if she failed. Regrettably, her mind was blanking on what _else_ to do or say. She was just praying for someone to interrupt them so she could have a decent excuse to _run_. Why couldn't the crazy librarian be there to keep a watch on rogue students? It figures even _she_ would have a Valentine date.

He tipped his head slightly, asking loftily, "Well, Granger?" It also didn't help that he wasn't wearing the normal school robes—the advantages of being an Eighth Year provided them leniency of clothing, especially on holidays such as this day. Instead, he chose to wear something rather Muggle inspired: straight legged black jeans and a flimsy (but probably worth more than her _house_) gray t-shirt with some sort of expensive jacket over it. Always the rich kid, wasn't he? Couldn't do her one favor by wearing the formless robes they were usually stuffed into, could he? Malfoy was probably only doing it as a show for others to see his change of allegiance. Unfortunately, this didn't change how good it made him look. She cursed her warm choice of clothing as her cheeks flushed darker once again. Of course, she also chose to wear normal Muggle clothes of a turtle-neck and blue jeans.

Frowning, Hermione decided to try and side-track him, "My choice in men is none of your business, Malfoy." Hermione paused, looking away as if in thinking. After a moment, she looked at him again, leaning back slightly as if to 'get a good look at him.' She raised an eyebrow, "Decided to go for a change in wardrobe, Malfoy?" Her deflection was painfully obvious and Hermione winced inwardly. It was the first thing that came to mind, however.

He leaned back slightly, giving her a moment of space, but kept his smirk in place as he decided to played along, "Yes, well, I figured the clothing was… appropriate." He stuffed his hands into his back pockets jokingly, "Muggles have a funny way about their style. Tight fitted and so many _pockets_." He removed his hands and motioned to the front of his jeans and opened his jacket to reveal even more pockets. Hermione tried to make her quick look away from him as he opened his jacket as subtle as possible. She wasn't sure if she pulled it off.

Malfoy released his jacket and leaned forward to invade her personal space and ultimately gaining her attention again, "It makes me wonder if girls' clothing is fashioned in the same way." His eyes were serious, but a smirk remained on his mouth. Hermione shrank, cursing her cowardice. She was Hermione Granger, War Hero, and Gryffindor through and through, yet she still prayed for deliverance from this awkwardly personal situation.

As he eyed her, waiting for a response, Hermione's prayer came true. A voice called from across the room, "Hermione?" Both pair of eyes whipped up and turned to look at a figure turn the corner into their area of the library. Unfortunately, it was not who she had really wanted to show.

"I—I—I'm sorry for interrupting you, Hermione. I—um—came to s-say thank you for the—um—_Valentine_—" Neville Longbottom's face was brick red as he stuttered his 'thank you.' Hermione Granger died a thousand deaths in that moment. Draco Malfoy looked like he just struck gold. For all intents and purposes, he did.

"I'll be going now!" Neville squeaked before jetting out of there in a flash.

Hermione's jaw lowered in awe at how quickly she could go from a triumphant verbal spar earlier to being absolutely decimated now. Malfoy turned his brightened expression back on her, leaning back to release her from his encasing position. He took his feet off either side of her chair and slid out of her personal bubble, now that he had something even better than what could have ever imagined.

"So… do you still want _privacy_ for your very… grateful _Valentine_?" He raised his brow, mockingly. Hermione groaned into hands. Of course, she had insinuated much more than was accurate. Hermione _had_ given Neville a Valentine… as a friend only. The rest she had said was just stuff to one-up Malfoy. Hermione cursed her use of words. Her life was _over_. Well, at eighteen years, she had a good run.

"At least, this makes sense." Malfoy added reasonably as he stood up from the table and leaned back comfortably. "You both are social pariahs—" Suddenly another thought occurred to him and he screwed his face, disgusted, "Although the image of you two going at it like rabbits will forever scar my sensitive and extremely attractive mind—"

Hermione squeaked and turned redder in embarrassment. She started, "No—I didn't—" She went silent suddenly as his gaze perked up at her words. Hermione mentally berated herself. If she confirmed that she didn't actually mean for Neville to be romantic with her, then Malfoy would eat her alive. It figures the one time Hermione Granger lied and pretended to be much more romantically savvy than she actually was, _would_ be the one time she got excruciatingly busted. Then again, either way, she was screwed. I mean, she loved Neville and all, but dating him was… not in her plans. Hermione, _finally_, shut her mouth soundly to prevent any more word vomit from ruining her further. Unfortunately, Malfoy easily caught her discomfort and hesitation. She could tell by the way his smirk widened that she had, once again, screwed up. Usually she was so controlled! This day was turning out for the worst, it seemed.

Despite his grin, Malfoy's eyes narrowed upon her as if he suddenly caught a flash of a gold galleon in her expression. Hermione winced and hid behind her hands again. _Stupid, stupid, stupid…_

"Of course, maybe I misunderstood the whole situation," Malfoy's expression softened, but Hermione knew better than to be off of her guard. She peaked through her fingers to glare at him as his tense body relaxed from where he sat on the table. He continued mockingly, "You two must be so _close_ to one another, after all. _Love at first sight,_ I can tell now." Hermione tensed, but refused to break.

He started off with a cocky smile that turned sorrowful as he put his hands palms up as if to apologize, "I'm sorry, did I ruin your extra special moment with Longbottom? I would hate to hurt your _romance_." Hermione stiffened further and tried not to cringe, "He is, after all, extremely smart and handsome. I mean, you two were practically _made _for each other—I'm sure your… romantic relationship would be very passionate indeed, in a closet, doing—"

"_Fine!_" Hermione cried, "I lied." She removed her hands from her face and huffed loudly, "I just wanted to win in our verbal spar. Are you pleased now?"

"What would _please_ me is if you worshipped the ground I walked on and called me King Malfoy," He cocked his head to the side in idle thought, "but your utter and total destruction will do just as well." He smiled encouragingly.

Hermione gritted her teeth, but decided to change tactic, "If you'll just give me my book back, _Malfoy_, I'll be on my way and we can go back to utterly hating and ignoring each other just like the _old_ days, since you seem to remember them so fondly."

His eyebrows popped up in amusement. Malfoy pulled the book out of his back pocket and sat back down on the table facing her—to her irritation. Hermione shifted in her chair uncomfortably. At least he sat on the table _beside_ her, instead of directly in front of her. She was really awful in handling those situations. He looked down at the book thoughtfully.

"A story about a couple who are enemies, but eventually fall in love with each other, right, Granger?"

Hermione paused awkwardly. She had assumed that any Muggle book—especially chick-flick oriented—would be totally unknown to someone like Malfoy. Particularly Draco Malfoy, actually. She frowned at the blush dusting her cheeks once again.

"Yes. What of it, Malfoy?"

His gaze transferred back to her, and the book seemed to be quickly and utterly forgotten as he put it into his back pocket again. Hermione huffed, looking away. His expression was unreadable as he asked, "Why do you always call me Malfoy?" He frowned in thought, but didn't elaborate.

Hermione turned toward him again, blinking at the change in subject. She blanched, "_Why_? –I mean, that's what I've always referred to you as."

He crossed his arms as he thought, _Because_ _it's a sign of respect. And I like my name. And using my last name always sounds like a curse word from you. _"How about changing it up?" he asked stubbornly.

Hermione didn't even take the time to consider his words.

"_No._"

It was such a strange request about such a weird subject. Truth be told, Hermione was willing to refuse Malfoy on anything, just because _he_ asked for it. It just helped that she already didn't like the thought of using his actual _name_. It was like one of those… unspoken rules. If broken, death was a real probability.

He glared, "I am on your side now. Using it would be a sign of _respect_."

Hermione's brows rose in surprise, "Respect?" Laughter visibly bubbled up in her at the thought, "Malfoy, since when have you ever wanted _my_ _respect_?"

That made him clam up fairly quickly. After glaring at her for noticing something so trivial (yet not), he turned icy and looked away.

"I don't," He replied gruffly. The awkward silence that followed said otherwise. Hermione studied him, considering his actions and words. _Maybe I shouldn't have pointed that out…_

Decidedly, she pretended to stretch as a way of breaking the awkward silence. She smiled pleasantly before sitting forward with a sigh, "Well,"

When she caught his attention again, she offhandedly continued, "It _would_ be a foolish question. After all, you _are_ on our side and I do respect everyone I consider as friend, ally… or otherwise."

Although she had said it as a back-door way of reassuring him without _actually_ reassuring him, he looked at her directly with an unwavering unreadable expression. Hermione fidgeted under his gaze.

"Are you saying you have respect for me, Granger?"

She winced. _Yes, but it was supposed to be subtle and never spoken out loud._ She thought he would have accepted it and let the compliment slide. Changing uncomfortable subjects quickly was his _gift_ in life, as she soon came to realize as the year dragged on. She hated how he switched his personalities so quickly, however. One minute he was over-confident and obnoxious, the next he was icy and standoff-ish, the _next_ he was serious, direct, and to the point. It was enough to drive a girl bonkers!

She blinked and slowly said, "We _are_ on the same team." Saying directly that she had respect for him was what he wanted, she knew, and the action would probably have unintended consequences. He wanted _something_, whatever it was. The thing that really got under her skin was how she _knew_ he did it on purpose—manipulation to get information or a specific reaction or word from her. She was smart, but keeping up with the chess pieces under all of her words and actions were giving her a serious headache. It was interesting, but she was unused to such constant hidden agendas. Every conversation with him was a battle leading into the next. Her boys were much simpler. Eat, foolishly and bravely run off into a fight unprepared but with a lot of heart, and sleep. Hardly much went on between them that wouldn't also be obvious to a blind, mute, and deaf animal.

Unluckily, her words which were meant to deflect only seemed to encourage him. He smirked at her again, except this time Hermione felt her heart sink. His expression was different than earlier—he smirked, but he wasn't smug. The only way to understand Malfoy was always reading what _wasn't_ there. It was his tell… sort of. Hermione stiffened and she swore as her insides clenched fearfully. Or were there butterflies in her stomach? Actually, it was probably hunger pains. She hadn't eaten all day. Funny how those feelings were surprisingly similar.

Malfoy stood up, clearly intent on doing something. They were silent as he seemed to stare at her unblinkingly. Whatever she had said or done _(what _had_ she done again_?) had changed the game between them significantly.

Hermione back-pedaled, barely recalling her previous comments, "W—well, respect is a _strong_ word—" A smile stretched over his mouth and Hermione stopped talking abruptly.

Hermione realized she was in trouble, _whatever the heck was going on_, and so she made a snap decision. This was a battle and she knew when to fight and when to retreat. Whatever was going on in that obnoxious brain was just _bad_ for her. Hermione suddenly stood up, loudly pushing her chair back with a _screech_. She flinched at the noise, but didn't regret her choice. Despite her prideful Gryffindor instincts, her smart brain said _run_.

Caught off guard, he took a step back. Taking advantage of his misstep, Hermione started walking backward around the chair, toward the exit.

"Well," she started with a high pitched voice, "I think it's time for me to go, Malfoy. I haven't eaten all day and—" she tripped over a malicious rough spot in the carpet, but caught herself in time. He seemed to know exactly what she was doing and was amused by it.

"I'll just be going!" she squeaked out before turning around and walking briskly through the bookcases. _She just needed to turn one more corner she was home free._

"I thought you were leaving?" Hermione jumped a foot in the air as Malfoy stood in front of her as if he was always there. She swore; stupid nerves. She had taken a wrong turn at the _Magical Balms and Remedies _booksection and ended up in the wrong area. It wasn't the same table or bookcase as before so he must have seen her and headed her off before she could correct herself.

He approached her like one might approach a hippogriff. It was funny, actually, since anyone _but_ Malfoy had actually approached a hippogriff as it needed to be. Hermione backed up, keeping her personal space… personal.

"I took a wrong turn," Hermione said, tense. "Mistake—happens all the time," she finished, flustered.

He approached her and it wasn't long before her back bumped against a bookcase. Surprisingly, Malfoy didn't walk too close, but it was still closer than comfort level.

"Are you alright, Granger?" he asked as if everything was normal and it was only Hermione and her over-reacting twitchy nerves were to blame for her awkwardness. She glared at him for his cleverness. His expression remained innocent as he continued, "I would hate for one of your rabid fans to accuse me of something I don't deserve."

Then, suddenly, he took several small steps back, smirking and allowing Hermione her breathing space. His eyebrow rose as he asked, "Something wrong, Granger?" She let out an unsteady breath. Figures he would be obnoxious and worry her for nothing. He patted her arm jokingly and said, "You're really acting odd today. You might want to stop by the nurse to get checked out. You look a bit flushed and out of sorts."

Hermione fought the temptation to wave her hand to cool her face down. Looking away to play off her discomfiture, she replied, "I'll think about it." As he turned and began to walk away, Hermione flipped around to face the bookcase and allow her expression to match her rattled nerves. What a day!

Just as she began to breathe easy, he turned back to add, "_Oh_, one more thing," Hermione turned back around with large eyes as he walked back toward her, unperturbed.

Malfoy gave a shallow smile as he explained, "You forgot your book." He pulled it out and looked as if he wanted to hand it to her. When she made a reach for it, he pulled it out of her grasp, invaded her personal space like she had been afraid he would do before, and grabbed her waist with his free hand. With his other, he reached around and stuffed the book in her back pocket.

"Muggles are right, these pockets _are_ very handy." He was barely a breath away. Hermione all at once seized her muscles tensely and panicked as he started to lean in.

_Smack._

Hermione's horrified expression matched Malfoy's totally shocked one when his eye's popped open, "What the hell was that for!"

Hermione winced, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so, _so_ sorry!" Her face was beat red, "I didn't mean to do it! It was just a natural reaction when being attacked—"

"_Attacked_—" Malfoy squeaked indignantly, "I was trying to _kiss_ you."

"Well you weren't doing a very good job of it!" Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth.

Malfoy's face slackened in amazement and indignation.

Hermione back-pedaled, "I mean, you were—but you were cornering me—I couldn't help but react!"

Malfoy held his arms out in question, "What, have you never been kissed before!"

"Not so intimately!" she screeched.

Malfoy paused, suddenly understanding her words. Hermione seemed to realize it too, and clapped her hand over her mouth again, cursing her embarrassment and bad word choice. It was true, but he didn't need to know that! _In the heat of the moment, it had slipped!_ She groaned. She thought Neville walking in on them had been bad…

"Granger, are you saying—"

"_No_." She cut him off severely. A little _too_ severely. Her blush darkened considerably.

Malfoy started smiling as if Christmas had come early. "Has Hermione _Know-It-All_ Granger never been _kissed_ before—"

"I have so!" She cried, indignantly. It wasn't her fault that when every guy (read: two guys) she had ever kissed, it was only a _peck—at the most random, unromantic situations_. Hermione cringed at his expression. Oh, God, Malfoy would never let her live this down. _How stupid she had been! _She never acted, spoke, or did _anything_ without forethought. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. _Hermione mentally beat her head against the wall. This was happening unhealthily often recently. There was probably brain damage now from the entire mental trauma she had been subject to this holiday.

He grinned blindingly, putting the back of his hand against his forehead dramatically, "There _is_ a God out there!" He looked up at the ceiling, putting his palms together in praise, "Thank you for answering the prayers I didn't even know to ask for!"

Hermione groaned, covering her face with her wrists, "I don't suppose you could completely forget everything I just said?" She practically begged him.

His grinning expression was answer enough. "Not in the least, oh Golden Girl of War Hero Trio." He grasped her hands, making his expression fake into sorrow, "But don't worry. I shall use this information most unwisely, for purposes utterly conniving and evil."

Hermione's mouth went dry as she replied, "How kind of you."

He let her go to tap a finger his chin thoughtfully, "First, I think I shall have to make some demands."

"You cannot make me do anything to hurt Harry or Ronald," she glared meaningfully at him.

Malfoy sighed disappointedly, "Fine, but you have to start calling me by my first name_." It had always been his secret desire. _He wasn't going to give up easily. Not that he would ever say that out _loud_.

She protested, "But I like saying Malfoy! Your first name is just so… strange. And Malfoy is what I've always called you!"

He glared, "It's my name. It can't _sound_ like anything but my name."

She glared and shot back, "How would you feel about calling me Hermione?"

Malfoy frowned.

"That's what I thought."

Exasperated, he said, "Fine. You can call me Malfoy and I'll still call you Granger. But I _still_ get to demand something."

She rolled her eyes, "Of course."

He thought for a second. "You have to concede defeat to my _irresistible_ charms aaand—" Hermione snorted and muttered, "Oh please." Malfoy ignored her, however, and continued, "—and I lack in no area, especially with women."

Hermione snorted and flicked a hair that had fallen in his face, as if he was acting most ridiculously. He added helpfully, "And if you could worship the ground I walk on, calling me King Mal—" Hermione lightly smacked him again. She turned around and stomped toward her book that had fallen forgotten on the ground in the midst of their 'tussle.'

"Never mind, Malfoy. You're _definitely_ not worth it." Sticking her tongue out at him, she grabbed the book and started flouncing out of the library, "I should've known you couldn't take anything seriously, especially a relationship."

Malfoy's shocked expression was worth more than a pile of galleons. With her back turned, she didn't see his expression go from shocked, to amused, to determined.

"Granger—" She turned at the sound of her name and found herself falling against a bookcase, being attacked by a kiss. Hermione closed her eyes, responding wholeheartedly. So _this_ was what the fuss was all about.

When their mouths separated, Malfoy grinned against her. "I guess I can live without the title, but you _will_ eventually agree about my way with the ladies." Her snort would have been more convincing if she wasn't practically melding with his form. She glared at his smirk.

"_Challenge accepted, Malfoy_." He stumbled back as she pushed him against the bookcase on the other side. She attacked him, much like he had her, giving kissing him within an inch of his life.

When she abruptly pulled away from him, she pulled her clothing into rights and left him with a surprised, jaw hanging, expression. She smiled at him and turned on her heel toward the exit of the library, walking with a bounce in her step.

"I don't think _I'll_ be the one raving about your abilities, Malfoy."

At the doorway, she turned to wave at him cheerily, "I believe it'll be _you_ left wanting for more, not the other way around." And she was gone.

Malfoy fell back against the bookcase, looking up in amazement. He pushed his hair out of his face distractedly.

"Well, Granger, you might be right about that."

Malfoy smiled slightly, before growing serious. He stood up straight, pulled down on his expensive jacket, and headed out of the library with a smirk. He wasn't going to let her go that easily and it was time to go on the offensive in another war. This war, however, was sure to be much more pleasant. One thing was unquestionable; he would never have the Valentine blues again.

_Fin._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>_

_Ha, this literally hit me upside the head randomly last night. I love Valentine's Day. :) To be honest, I don't know anything about romance or dating or anything really, but I just couldn't help myself. I was giggling madly over this idea and couldn't stop until it was finished. Actually, I think that I should have ended it better and the pace was kind of fast. Hm. I would love your thoughts/opinions/suggestions please. No need for flames. I really am awful with romance though. The dynamic between these two, however, is unavoidably fun to write, read, and etc. :)_

_Near the end, I think Malfoy broke character more. I might go back and reword some of the things he said. But I just can't help but post this story as soon as possible. After taking FOREVER to type something up (I'm a bit rusty), I got really antsy editing and fixing things—just wanting to get the story up._

_It's funny… while typing up these Harry Potter stories, I always imagine the words with a British accent. Lol, it's rather fun. (Notice the word 'rather.' I randomly noticed they like to use that word, lol). Anyways…_

_And I was actually thinking about writing another one-shot with these two characters… except a little less happy, a little more angst. I don't usually like those sorts of stories, but the plot bunny chases you down and there's little one can do about it :)_

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own the story or the characters… just the minor plot bunny and a little love between enemies :) Props to J. K. Rowling for starting an awesome book series that lives on in fanfiction even still._

_Thanks for reading, please review. Constructive criticism, or an added idea I could edit into the story is very welcome._

—hawaiiancaffeine124

(AKA: alana124pyro)


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